Frankie Didn't Go To Hollywood, The Joker Did
by PineappleGrenade
Summary: The Joker auditions for the X Factor.


**Frankie Didn't Go To Hollywood, The Joker Did**

"Hello music-fans and welcome to another thrill-packed episode of the X-Factor!" An excitable host enthused at the camera, bouncing up and down on the soles of his stylishly-shod feet. "This week we're in the one and only _Gotham City_! to see what talent it has to offer and it certainly has a lot of talent." He punctuated his sentence with a sleazy wink, perfectly executed to make housewives and pre-teen girls alike swoon into their sofa cushions.

The camera started its customary sweep over the waiting hordes, currently all huddled under umbrellas of various novelty-shape and size due to the heavy rain fall that seemed to hang ominously around the City of Gotham's atmosphere. Despite the dolorous weather, the gathered hopefuls seemed in high-spirits enough – turning to wave their arms and scream deliriously at the rain-spotted lens about how they were going to be the Next Big Thing. At least, that was what they started out screaming about, until something happened to change the subject entirely.

Impatiently, the X Factor's host craned his neck over the masses to see what the sudden outburst of frightened shrieking – identifiable because of its more primal pitch – was about. The expression of boyish excitement had slid from his face as easily and effectively as the Caped Crusader removes his bat-eared cowl at the end of a long night of crime-fighting, to be replaced with a look of arrogant annoyance. "What's going on?" He demanded of the platoon of cameramen that surrounded him and got nothing but clueless shrugs in reply.

"Excuse me, coming through, what a charming umbrella, watch out, excuse me…" A trundling string of pleasantries emerged from the midst of the screaming, seeming to silence it as it came. The X Factor's generic TV host looked towards the source of the noise, falling back a step when he saw what came out into the open. He swallowed nervously, eyes bugging out of their sockets as his brain crazily yammered on about all his television training, none of which had covered what to do in a situation like this. Glancing in a panic over his shoulder he saw that all but one of his cameramen had deserted him and the one left was frozen to the spot in fear. No help there.

"Do excuse my cutting the queue…" A crazy red-lipped grin loomed into Generic Host's line of vision, causing his eyes to involuntarily squeeze shut although there was nothing his ears could do about the strangely high-pitched, strangely grating voice that continued to accost them. "…But you see, I'm something of a celebrity around here and I have some _very important business_ inside." There was a smell like gunpowder and wilted flowers as the owner of the grin brushed past the immobile host.

"Mister Joker… sir… would you just like to say a few words to the camera…" Recovering from his fear just a few seconds after the smell had faded in his nostrils, Generic Host turned with a chirpy smile and his microphone outstretched, only to find that the villain had disappeared. He cursed bitterly at himself for losing out on a golden opportunity and wished he had a cup of coffee to throw in the face of the still-frozen remaining cameraman. As it was, he had to settle for racing inside the building, hoping to catch a few seconds of interview before the Joker went about whatever dastardly scheme he had planned.

* * *

"If you ask me, I think we're onto a real winner with that one…" Simon Owl (name changed to protect the author from a law suit) enthused blandly in his pompous voice to the two other X Factor judges seated beside him.

Out of view of the cameras, Sharon Otter (see above parentheses) rolled her eyes and sipped her drink, muttering into its murky depths "Which one?" because Simon Owl tended to randomly interject that phrase into whatever discussion they were having, never bothering to clarify who he was actually talking about. Having overheard her, the third and final judge Randy Jackal (you know what to do) chuckled in good humour.

"Listen, Sharon…" Simon, who had also happened to hear her, leant back in his chair and surveyed the woman he was addressing with half-closed eyes. "I made your husband. I can break him just as easily."

"You pompous –" The wounded woman began shrilly, tensing to throw her drink into the insult-monger's face. But Simon never found out what pompous thing he was because at that moment the audition door opened and the cameras started rolling, giving the three judges their cue to suddenly become bosom pals.

"Name?" Simon enquired perfunctorily, glancing down at the notes on the table in front of him, scanning for details on the contestant. Contestant number 1006754210, christened Cynthia Studmuffin, a thirty-six year old housewife from Gotham City was to be encouraged to talk about her dead tortoise in order to win her a place in the nation's sympathetic hearts. He picked up a pen and circled the word 'dead' a few times.

"I need no introduction." Replied a voice that seemed to hang in the air like the Cheshire Cat's grin.

"This dude's got _style_!" Randy exclaimed, snapping his fingers at the air in a complicated gesture. The hanging grin widened.

Simon's pen stopped mid-circle. "Dude?" He echoed, glancing up in mild confusion. He was met with a leering grin that certainly didn't belong to Cynthia Studmuffin. However, he didn't let this throw him, not even the deathly white face and sharp purple suit of the person that wasn't Cynthia Studmuffin was enough to throw him. Obviously there had just been some kind of mix-up between his notes and what was actually meant to be happening. That was just the way television worked sometimes.

"Are these your cameras?" The Joker asked with interest, strolling over to one. Very familiar with cameras, as they had been used in various schemes of his over the years, he stuck his face up against the lens and widened his usual grin. "Hello, good citizens. You all know me don't you?" He cooed and wiggled his fingers in a coy wave, ducking up to wink at the cameraman cowering behind his work tool.

"If you could just stand on the X…" Sharon interrupted the villain's vanity, leaning over the edge of the table she was sat behind to helpfully point out the large 'X' in the middle of the room. She had decided already that she liked this contestant; he had a lot of eccentric charisma that she warmed to.

Even though all successful super-villains learn very early on to be cautious around anything on the floor marked with an 'X', especially if it's not on ground that can be dug up, the Joker complied cheerfully enough. Scooting to the mark, he scuffed around it a few times with the toe of his shoe just to make sure it wasn't covering a trap door.

"What do you have that makes you think you could win the X Factor?"

This question, asked of so many hopefuls, appeared to give the Joker pause for thought. "Hmm…" He stated, theatrically clasping his hands behind his back and tilting his head to look up at the ceiling as if he thought maybe someone had left a cue up there. The three judges exchanged looks of varying degrees of impatience and curiosity whilst he rocked back and forth on his heels a few times in an exaggerated show of profound thought, running his tongue out along his lower lip.

"A gun." Having reached this conclusion, the Joker grinned and whipped a long-barrelled, somehow cartoonish looking gun from the confines of his jacket.

Sharon leapt to her feet and started to scream before diving under the table to hide. This caused Simon to lean back on the rear legs of his chair and roll his eyes, languidly snapping the fingers of one hand to call his bodyguards into the room. "Yes, but what are you going to _sing_ for us?"

"Sing?"

This was answered with an emphatic nod. The green-haired villain's eyebrows contracted in response, the corners of his mouth drawing downwards into a frown. Indignantly, he gestured with and at the gun in his hand. "But that was what this is for."

"This is a singing show, dawg, not a shooting show."

The Joker considered this for a moment. "You're right you know. I only brought this along in case you wouldn't let me in anyway." With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the gun at the judge's table. It clattered against the surface, dead in the centre, and skittered a little towards Simon who eyed it with disinterest then waved his bodyguards away. Sharon's head appeared above the top of the table.

"I'm going to be singing Tragedy by the Bee Gees."

Randy smiled and nodded. "In your own time."

The usual amount of nervous glances and throat clearing occupied the next few seconds. And then the Joker burst into song and the auditioning room into sound and colour. 'Tragedy's' thumping bass line filled the room from nowhere, throbbing in the judge's heads whilst disco lights whirled crazily and incongruously over the walls and ceiling.

"_Tragedy_!" The Joker sang in a voice that boasted more volume than quality. A neat pirouette brought him within distance of the judge's table and by a sleight of hand so fast it appeared to be magic, the gun was back in his hand and being used as a microphone whilst he belted out the words to the song. "_I'm gonna kill the Bats and his brat, they're a tragedy_." One clenched fist punched the air in an Elvis-like gesture, complete with the gyrating pelvis.

"_When you feed a Bat to hungry sharks, it's Batricide._" So the words were slightly unconventional, especially for a family programme, but damn could the Clown Prince of Crime dance. _"With dynamite in your pocket, you're really going somewhere. Ooo-ooo-ooo-oo._" Still crooning into his improvised microphone, he leapt onto the judge's table and slid the length of it on his knees in true rock and roll style. He even managed to tip a wink at Sharon as he went gliding past her, which sent her into a fluster of giggles and coy hand-flappings.

Landing back in the middle of the 'X', multi-coloured disco lights whirling crazily around his figure, he struck a pose. He drew a breath to continue his song and –

"I'm going to have to stop you there."

The song died on the super-villain's lips, the lights and music along with it with a sound of a needle being jerked off of a record. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at Simon. "What? Why?" Almost absently, the gun that had so recently enjoyed a more innocent purpose in life was levelled at the hard-bitten judge's chest.

"Sharon's getting over-excited." Simon offered in way of deadpan explanation, waving a hand towards his fellow judge. Taking a closer look, the Joker was inclined to agree with the diagnosis. The woman was slumped over the table top, hyperventilating. Simon, apparently used to this sort of thing, dragged her up into a sitting position by the back of her jacket and put a paper bag over her mouth, whilst Randy fulfilled his role in the operation by showing the woman a picture of her husband. This seemed to do the trick and within seconds she was sitting pretty, looking as if nothing untoward had happened.

"Well dawg, I just want to say that was the most energetic performance we have seen so far! And the best rendition of that song I have ever heard."

"It was _faaaabulous_." Sharon drawled, cupping her chin in her hands and fluttering her eyelashes at the Joker. "Simply _faaaaabulous_." Sensing that she was on the verge of becoming over-excited again, Randy quickly shoved a picture of a husband in her face. "Simon? What do you think?" She asked, her words slightly muffled by the glossy publicity shot covering her mouth and general face area.

Simon leaned back in his chair, eyes going half-mast like a well satisfied lizard, completely unconcerned by the gun trained on his person. He tapped his pen against the table top, eyeing the Joker critically as he considered the villain's audition. "I think…" He crossed his arms over his chest. "I think you're just what we're looking for in this competition. You've got the style, you've got the voice and you've obviously got the confidence. Randy, yes or no?"

The Joker stared, as if in disbelief.

"It's a yes from me, dawg."

"Definitely a yes, darling." Sharon smirked and mouthed 'call me', holding up her hand in imitation of a phone to her ear and winking suggestively.

The Joker's jaw dropped a little.

"That's three yes's. You're going to Hollywood!" Simon Owl concluded.

"You're saying yes?" The grin contracted into a grimace of anger. "You're saying _yes_? To _me_? The _Joker_?"

"You may be a joker, but we ain't joking dawg."

"This is ridiculous. I'm a super-criminal, arch-nemesis of the Batman, you can't just say yes to me and pack me off to Hollywood to be a successful pop singer. What would people _think_?"

"They'd think they'd like to buy your records."

The Joker strode over to the judge's table and slammed his gun down against it, glaring at the three celebrities. "Look, I'm going to level with you. I only came here because I was bored and wanted to see if there was anything worth blowing up. I certainly didn't come here to gain your seal of approval. In my career, that would decidedly be a backwards move. You three are the last people on Earth I would want to work with, I would rather share a bedtime cocoa with the Boy Blunder. I'm afraid I'm going to have to reject your proposal and that's my final word on the matter." He banged his gun against the table a couple more times for good measure.

The judges, as one person, looked completely stunned. Sharon's bottom lip began to tremble and tears filled her eyes. Simon and Randy tried to be strong for her, but even the most wet-behind-the-ears runner could see that they were on the verge of emotional collapse.

"You're… saying no?" Simon asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You're darned tooting right I'm saying no."

"Please? Just give us another chance? We could do better, _improve_… Just give us one more chance and we'll show you."

"Don't leave me!" Sharon wailed and threw herself on the floor in a flood of tears.

"I said no and no amount of begging is going to change my mind. Now get out before I call security."

"You just don't know talent when you see it!" Randy shouted, using anger to hide his grief. He stood up, thumping his fist on the table before starting towards the door that so many crest-fallen hopefuls had dragged themselves through back to their mundane and cheerless lives. He stopped half-way across the floor and turned back to the other two, who still stood dumbstruck, fiercely wiping his hand over his eyes to clear them from tears. "Come on, we're worth more than this."

They nodded dumbly and stood up, following him from the room. Sharon leaned heavily on Simon's shoulder, crying. She could be heard to repeat over and over how much she loved the Joker, how much faith she had had in him until that day, he'd broken her heart _and_ her dreams. Both men tried to comfort her through the own grief, supporting her out of the door. Whilst this little drama was going on the Joker cheerfully instated himself behind the judge's table, leaning back in a chair and swinging his feet up onto the surface, humming a little tune to himself.

At the door Simon turned back with a look of defiance to give his parting shot. "You haven't heard the last of us. One day we'll be famous and then you'll be sorry you turned us away." And with that he was gone, ushered out in annoyance by his own bodyguard.

With the door firmly closed on the histrionics, Joker looked up from his gun which he had been busily polishing with the heel of his gloved hand. Seeing the three former judges gone, he grinned his trademark grin and beckoned the cameramen closer. They readily complied. Slowly, taking his time in front of the cameras that loved him so much, he swung his feet down from the table and leant forwards, steepling his hands beneath his chin, with the gun dangling by its trigger from one of his thumbs.

"Hello good citizens of Gotham and welcome to a brand new episode of… _Joker Factor_." Bursting into maniacal laughter that worked all the muscles on his deathly white face, the Joker pointed his gun at the nearest camera lens and squeezed off a shot. A flag popped out of the muzzle and unfurled. The customary 'bang' usually written on the material had been scribbled out to be replaced with 'Yes' on one side and 'No' on the other. And so a new televisual phenomena was born with the Joker as its crown.


End file.
